Snakeheads
by San Antonio Rose
Summary: Sam. Dean. Gabriel. A hotel full of System Lords. This can't be good. (SPN/SG-1, AU; SPN spoilers up to "Hammer of the Gods," implied-to-mild Gabe/Kali and Dean/Lisa)
1. Through the Looking Glass

**Spoiler warning:** _Supernatural _"Hammer of the Gods" and general situations to date in Season 5; possible vague spoilers for _Stargate__ Atlantis_ "The Seer," "The Last Man," and "Enemy at the Gate," _Stargate__ Universe_ "Air," and maybe _Stargate__: Extinction_ (if the stupid movie ever gets made). Also references to _Supernatural_ "Tall Tales," "Mystery Spot," "Changing Channels," and "99 Problems" and an oblique reference to _Stargate__ Atlantis_ "The Lost Tribe." (I figure _SG-1_'s been off the air long enough that even Season 10 events are no longer considered spoilers.)

**Setting:** This story, part one of a trilogy, is AU for both _Supernatural_ and _Stargate__ SG-1_, is set in April of 2010, and assumes that the events that supposedly make up the plot of _Stargate__: Extinction_ took place just before the events of the _Supernatural_ Season 4 finale, "Lucifer Rising," in the spring of 2009. Atlantis has returned to the Pegasus Galaxy, and the castaways from Icarus Base are still stuck on the other side of the universe. I'm also assuming, for lack of readily available evidence to the contrary, that Stargate Ops and certain other SGC facilities remain at Cheyenne Mountain even though, as of SGU "Air," much of the Stargate program has apparently been moved to Homeworld Command at the Pentagon.

**A/N:** Well, _somebody_ had to write it. (I began it before "Hammer of the Gods" actually aired, so some of the events are slightly out of order, but I did pull in some dialogue from the episode itself.) Because this part of the story is an AU of SPN "Hammer of the Gods," it's told primarily from the Winchesters' POV; but I promise that all four original members of SG-1 will appear eventually.

Many thanks to my lovely beta Ansostuff!

* * *

Snakeheads  
By San Antonio Rose

Chapter 1  
Through the Looking Glass

Sam and Dean Winchester had seen all manner of preternatural beasties in the quarter-century-plus they'd been a hunting family. Demons and low-level pagan gods were among them. And with the Apocalypse upon them, they knew better than to take this bizarrely nice hotel in Muncie at face value, especially since one of the guests was a dead ringer for Dr. Sexy but was clearly not an actor. Ditto the woman who looked exactly like Claudia Black but returned Dean's fanboy greeting with a cold stare and a flat denial that she was in show business. But it wasn't until they spotted a staff member with a tattoo on his forehead--a _raised gold_ tattoo that looked to Sam like a hieroglyph--that they began to think that this case might be a bit out of their usual line.

The big vat of snaky things in the kitchen was odd, too, and Dean only just managed to slam the lid shut before one could jump out and bite him, but "more things in heaven and earth," right? Besides, there were more important problems at hand, like guests gone missing.

When the Chinese chef found them attempting to break said guests out of the freezer, his eyes _glowed_, and they found out the hard way what the purpose of his funky hand jewelry was--the energy was like Lilith's "ray gun," only it still worked on Sam, though he ducked almost in time and was merely clipped by the bolt. Dean's attempt to shoot the guy revealed that he was protected by a force field, only it shimmered when the bullet hit it (unlike angels' shields, which never became visible), but he was distracted long enough for Sam to make a break for it, and his departure in turn distracted the Chinese dude long enough for Dean to run.

"What was that thing?" Dean gasped when he caught up to Sam outside by their black 1967 Impala.

Sam shook his head. "I'm not sure, but that blast felt more like a taser than demon energy."

"Guys?" called an extremely puzzled and all-too-familiar tenor from behind them. "What... I mean... what are you doing here?"

The brothers turned in unison. "Gabriel?"

The archangel-turned-Trickster immediately threw up his hands in wide-eyed surrender. "It's not my fault this time, I swear. I was summoned, and I'm guessing not by you."

"You just got here?" Dean demanded.

"Scout's honor," Gabriel replied, complete with Boy Scout salute.

And he was the first to jump when a little grey alien popped out of nowhere and said in a reedy, monotone voice, "The summons was mine."

Sam and Dean had their guns trained on the alien before it could blink.

It looked at them impassively. "Your weapons will not avail you. I am speaking to you through a holographic projection."

Gabriel attempted to touch the apparition and was startled when his hand not only met air but caused the image to pixelate around it. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and lowered their guns.

"My name is Baldur," the hologram stated. "I am Asgard."

Sam's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. "Baldur? The Norse god of light?"

"We allowed the humans under our protection to consider us gods," Baldur conceded. "But we came to Earth from--how did O'Neill put it--'a galaxy far, far away.'"

Dean's eyebrows had climbed as high as Sam's. So, for that matter, had Gabriel's.

"Well, that explains a lot about Scandinavia," Gabriel finally snarked.

"Please," Baldur... pleaded? It was hard to tell with a voice so inflectionless. "Odin and I are being held prisoner by the Goa'uld on the top floor of this hotel. This hologram generator is almost out of power, and we cannot use it to reach our allies here on Earth."

While Gabriel scanned the hotel, Dean shot Sam a look that said _I can't believe I'm about to ask this_, then turned back to the hologram and pulled out his cell phone. "You got a phone number?"

Baldur's eyes narrowed briefly as if in thought, or maybe annoyance, and then, to everyone's very great surprise, he came up with one. Dean repeated it back to him as he dialed, and Baldur confirmed it. "Ask for Jack O'Neill."

"Found 'em," Gabriel announced and snapped Baldur and Odin outside as Dean pressed Send.

Sam handed the aliens a flask of holy water, and they reacted to neither the silver nor the water. Odin just looked curiously at the flask when he handed it back.

The phone was answered on the third ring. "Homeworld Command. General O'Neill's office."

Dean rolled his eyes, unsure whether "Homeworld Command" was a genuine federal agency. "Yes, this is Agent Dolenz, FBI. I need to speak to General O'Neill. It's an emergency," he added with a sidelong glance at Baldur, who nodded once.

"With reference to what, sir?" came the bored reply.

"We found two Asgard," Dean said, still looking at Baldur, who nodded again.

Apparently the alien hadn't been lying about the "allies" part, since Dean hadn't heard that kind of swearing from a Fed since the last time he called Quantico to taunt Henricksen.

"O'Neill," said a sharp male voice on the other end, and for a moment Dean could have sworn he was talking to MacGyver. Of course, with Gabriel involved, anything was possible.

"Sir, this is Agent Dolenz, FBI. We've got a couple of friends of yours here; one says his name is Baldur."

A beat passed. "Baldur's _alive?_"

"Apparently." And that had _not_ been the reaction Dean expected. Questioning the creature's existence, yes. Sounding like Ellen had when she found out Dean was back from the Pit, no. "He claims they were being held by someone called a... Goa'uld?" He pronounced the last word as carefully as possible, since it sounded so much like _ghoul_ and that definitely was not what the Chinese chef was, guests in the freezer notwithstanding.

O'Neill's voice took on a note of urgent concern, and it sounded like he was running into some kind of command center. "Where are you, Agent Dolenz?"

Dean hesitated--the last thing they needed was to end up in federal custody _again_--but given O'Neill's reactions, he probably understood what was going on better than the Winchesters or the angel did, and Gabriel could bust them out anyway. So he answered honestly.

"Hold on," said O'Neill. There was some discussion in the background before he asked, "You're outside the hotel?"

"Yes."

"Are there five of you?"

Dean frowned and looked around. No one else was in the parking lot, and the street was deserted... how could O'Neill know that?

"Are there five of you?" O'Neill repeated, in the tone Dad used to demand information. Only the voice wasn't Dad's, it was MacGyver's still.

"Yes, sir," Dean responded instinctively.

"Hold on," O'Neill said again.

And with a soft chime, the world dissolved in a flash of white sparkles and resolved into a grey steel conference room. Sam, Gabriel, and the two aliens were still with Dean, though Sam and Gabriel looked considerably more confused than Odin and Baldur.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked of no one in particular.

"Welcome aboard the _Hammond_," answered a female voice from behind him. The Winchesters turned to face a uniformed blonde with big blue eyes and a warm smile, bearing herself with an air of command that quashed any thought Dean might have had of doing more than flirting with her. She entered the room and handed everyone but the aliens a clipboard. "I'm Colonel Samantha Carter, United States Air Force; I'm with Homeworld Command. Before we begin, I'll have to ask you to sign these non-disclosure agreements. We do need your help, but the situation you've stumbled onto is highly classified."

"Story of my life," Dean said under his breath as he skimmed the paper, noting key phrases like "Stargate program" that would probably be explained later, and signed it "G. M. Dolenz."

Gabriel frowned at the paper and signed. Sam read his quickly but carefully, and Dean was slightly gratified to see him sign with "P. H. Thorkelson." The Monkees might not be as obscure as some of the bands he usually chose for aliases, but at least you had to be a real fan to know Micky and Peter's full names. And Gabriel's? Dean just managed to catch a glimpse before he handed it back: "R. M. Nishwash."

If Dean hadn't already known the extent of the Trickster's addiction to TV, that would have given it away right there.

Carter gestured for them to be seated. Only when she herself sat down did she notice the odd looks the aliens were giving her. "So, Odin, Baldur. What brings you to Earth?"

"_Colonel_ Carter," one of them--Baldur, Dean thought, since he seemed to be the spokes-whatever--said with unusual stress on the title. "It seems there are more differences between our realities than we had thought. The Samantha Carter we knew died as a major ten years ago, in battle with the Replicators over Orilla."

Sam and Dean exchanged a puzzled frown. Roswell-type aliens impersonating Norse gods were bad enough, but alternate realities?

"And in this reality, the Othalla Galaxy Asgard committed mass suicide about three years ago because the genetic degradation from the cloning process became irreparable," Carter replied. "How did you get here?"

"There appears to be a quantum mirror at the hotel."

Carter turned to the Winchesters. "Quantum mirrors act as gateways between realities," she explained. "I assume that's also how the Goa'uld got there, since we and our offworld allies have defeated all but the most minor ones in this reality."

"Yes, they did come through the mirror," Baldur confirmed. "A great number of our System Lords and their First Primes are there: Ganesh, Zao Shen, Camulus, Qetesh, Bastet, Morrigan...."

"Whoa, wait," Sam interrupted. "What do you mean, System Lords? Those are _gods_."

"_Were _gods," Gabriel corrected flatly. "Most of 'em died about ten thousand years ago. Coyote never did figure out how or why, but all of a sudden almost all of the major gods were gone and a bunch of impostors with funky voices were running around demanding worship and making humans disappear. And then about the time I had that mission to Galilee, even the fake gods had vanished."

"So _that_'s how you managed to go undercover as Loki," Dean observed.

"Yep," Gabriel said, popping the p, and conjured himself a handful of Jolly Ranchers.

Carter frowned at them in confusion. "No, those 'impostors,' as you call them, were aliens called Goa'uld, and Loki... Loki was an Asgard. And a rogue Asgard at that--he abducted human subjects for experimentation. Thor only managed to stop him for good six years ago."

Gabriel chuckled. "See, guys? I knew that abduction thing was a good trick."

Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in unison. Gabriel tossed them each a Jolly Rancher, popped one in his own mouth, and stuck the rest in his pocket. The brothers pocketed theirs.

Carter's frown deepened, and she leaned forward to get a better look at Gabriel. "Excuse me, but... who _are_ you?"

"The archangel Gabriel," Dean replied before Gabriel could say anything.

"Dean!" Gabriel objected.

"Archangel?" Carter's expression was frankly disbelieving.

"Wings and all," Dean nodded. "He's been hiding out here on Earth disguised as a Trickster to stay out of the crossfire between his brothers, never mind that there's an Apocalypse we need to stop."

Now it was Gabriel's turn for an eye roll. "Please. You make me sound like a coward."

"On this? Yeah, you are a coward."

"Wait, _what?_" Carter cried.

Gabriel ignored her. "And I don't suppose you want the good colonel to know that you're Dean Winchester, monster hunter extraordinaire, Vessel of Michael and alleged thrice-dead serial killer? Or that Sam here's your baby brother, partner in crime, Vessel of Lucifer and ex-demon blood junkie? Or that he's got demon blood _in_ his veins?"

"Gabriel," Sam groaned.

"Yeah, well, it's never been about what I want anyway," Dean shot back.

"Thrice-dead?" Carter repeated, clearly struggling to keep up.

"Depends on how you count it," Sam replied wearily. "The first two _don't_ count. One was a shape-shifter; one was a cover story from a friendly Fed. But Gabriel stuck us in a time loop once and killed Dean about a hundred times--"

"I was only trying to help," Gabriel objected, but not as forcefully as Dean thought he might. "And I _did_ let you fix Wednesday."

"--before a deal Dean made to bring _me_ back from the dead came due and he died for real. But the angels brought him back. I've died twice since then, and then a couple weeks ago we were both murdered and sent back."

There was a baffled pause before Odin spoke for the first time. "I believe that tale may surpass the many deaths of Daniel Jackson. That is most impressive, considering that there was no sarcophagus involved."

And Dean threw back his head and laughed helplessly at the absurdity of the entire conversation. Especially given that Sam had once complained about missing the days when conversations didn't begin with _So__, this killer truck_. Right now, they both wished killer trucks were their biggest problem.

Gabriel unwrapped another Jolly Rancher and threw it at him. Dean caught it in his mouth--blue raspberry. "Thanks, man," he said with a wink as he shifted the candy to his cheek, ignoring the _Dude, really?_ look Sam sent his way.

"I can confirm Gabriel's identity," Baldur stated. "One of our Goa'uld captors has a book containing summoning rituals; the art that humans call magic is crude and often ineffective, but knowing we were in another reality, Odin thought it might be worth trying, as we had not been able to bring more than a damaged hologram projector. We overheard enough to believe that Gabriel might be likely to assist us, so I summoned him when we were left alone."

"Which may be what they intended you to do," Sam observed dryly. "That's too convenient not to be a set-up."

"That doesn't make sense," Carter noted. "Goa'uld are snakelike parasites that give long life to the human hosts they take, but they steal technology and use it to rule planets as if they were gods. Most of them spent time on Earth and adopted the identities of actual pagan gods. So why all of a sudden is there a System Lord summit being held on Earth, with Goa'uld from another reality, no less? And why would they want Gabriel there, even if they do think he's a Trickster? Most Goa'uld won't accept that any being could possibly be more powerful than they are, especially without technology."

Dean started to ask about the snaky things in the hotel kitchen, but Gabriel was quicker to answer Carter's question. "Maybe someone's trying to stage Ragnarok. Only they summoned the wrong gods."

Carter stared at him. "Ragnarok. As in the Apocalypse."

Gabriel smirked. "Oh, the Apocalypse proper started about a year ago, thanks to these two muttonheads. Ragnarok is the last stand of the gods--the Norse ones, anyway."

"Wait. The Apocalypse has _started?_"

"I believe that's what I just said." Gabriel held the colonel's gaze for a moment and apparently read her mind before he spoke again. "Guess you had your hands full getting Atlantis back to Pegasus, so you missed the giant explosion when Sammy here offed Lilith and busted my damned brother out of jail."

Dean decided not even to _try_ to work out what that meant.

Carter scowled. "How do you know about Atlantis?"

Gabriel's smirk widened. "Hellooo? Archangel!"

Carter shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept that. Sokar, the Goa'uld who claimed to be the devil, is dead--has been for ten years. My team and our allies, the Tok'ra, destroyed the moon he had turned into his version of Hell, and his ship was caught in the explosion."

Dean couldn't restrain a bitter laugh. "Ma'am, due respect, but what you blew up wasn't Hell."

"I know that," Carter began, but then she stopped short and looked, _really looked_, at Dean, and her expression changed from annoyance to confusion to empathy. "You've been there, haven't you? The real Hell. You really did die."

Dean blinked--he didn't think he was that easy to read. "What, you believe us now?"

"Not completely. I'm a scientist, and a lot of the supposedly supernatural things I've seen were simply alien technology. But I know what I saw on Ne'tu and what the Tok'ra Jolinar went through before she escaped. And I know what I see in your eyes."

Dean snorted. "Did this Jolinar's soul get literally torn apart every day for thirty years, only to be put back together again just so they could start all over the next day?"

Carter winced. "You were in Hell for thirty years?"

"Forty. I broke." _Please don't ask me for any more details_.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and he could tell she meant it.

Sam cleared his throat and ended the chick flick moment. "Sokar may be dead, but that doesn't change the fact that Lucifer, the real Lucifer, is not just alive, but loose on Earth. And if Gabriel's right, he's headed for the Elysian Fields Hotel in Muncie, Indiana."

"Which gives us at least three problems," Carter sighed, "because a traditional part of a Goa'uld summit is a feast in which the System Lords devour other symbiotes. That means that there's a barrel of Goa'uld somewhere in that hotel that someone like the Trust could easily steal and unleash on unsuspecting civilians."

"It's in the kitchen," Dean reported. "One of 'em tried to jump me."

"They've also got a ton of guests locked in the freezer," Sam added. "Real pagan gods feed on human flesh, but if most of the 'gods' are Goa'uld...."

"They've been captured to be taken as hosts," Carter concluded. "Happened to my team on our first mission. It'll be a little different from the ceremony on Chulak, but...."

Dean swore.

Carter nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. And if the System Lords form an alliance with Lucifer, Earth's really in trouble."

Gabriel shook his head. "Lucifer won't have any use for the Goa'uld in the long run if their only power is in their technology. But he _might_ try to use them to terrorize Earth in the short term, do some kind of end run around Michael or blackmail Sam. If he thinks he can control them. Otherwise, he'll turn 'em into finger-paint--which, come to think of it, might be a good diversion for a genuine god trying to get off Lucifer's radar."

"You think one of the gods is a real god planning on selling out the others to Lucifer?" Sam asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Possibly. He might want extra firepower for taking Luci on, but if I'm reading Col. Carter here right, that's not gonna fly with the snakeheads. Maybe he just wants to talk to Luci and wants backup; maybe he struck some kind of deal."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, we know how those turn out."

"So he used a quantum mirror to bring back dead System Lords from another reality?" Carter frowned. "Why would he grab Baldur and Odin, then?"

Dean shrugged. "Like Gabriel said, wrong gods."

"It might also be due to the fact that we had been captured by Qetesh just a few days before," Baldur noted--somewhat sheepishly, Dean thought. "I believe she brought us with her."

A flicker of concern crossed Carter's face but passed as she shook her head. "Vala's still off on the _Odyssey_," she said, mostly to herself. When she noticed the confused looks she was getting, she explained, "A former member of my team was the host of Qetesh in this reality until the Tok'ra removed the symbiote. I was worried that she might be affected by entropic cascade failure if she were still on Earth... ah, it's an effect of having two versions of the same person in the same place for more than a day. But she's in another part of the galaxy, so it's okay."

Sam, Dean, and Gabriel exchanged a look. "That's... good," Dean ventured.

"Are you sure it's a god, though, Gabriel?" Carter asked, getting back on topic.

"That kind of summoning spell would take a lot more mojo than anyone from the Trust would have, if that's your question," Gabriel replied. "And I know _that _because I've pulled some tricks on those geeks. I couldn't tell you who's in Muncie, but it's definitely a god."

"So," said Dean, leaning back in his chair. "How do we gank these freaks so we can get back to worrying about how to kill the devil?"

Carter thought for a moment, then bit her lip and looked Dean in the eye.

Dean suddenly felt uneasy. "What?"

"I have a really terrible idea."

* * *

A/N: The aliases: "G. M. Dolenz" is Micky Dolenz; "P. H. Thorkelson" is Peter Tork; and "R. M. Nishwash" is Mike Nesmith, using a mispronunciation that occurs at least in "Monkee Mayor" (and maybe also in "I've Got a Little Song Here," but I don't remember for sure). "D. T. Jones" might be a bit obvious, even to someone who didn't know that Davy Jones' middle name is Thomas.


	2. Deep Cover

Chapter 2  
Deep Cover

"We have a group of allies in this galaxy known as the Tok'ra," Carter began. "We've had our ups and downs with them, but I think they might be able to help us in this case because they've had thousands of years of experience spying on the Goa'uld, and they can get in under cover. _Deep_ cover." She hesitated. "As you."

The Winchesters frowned. "What do you mean, as us?" Sam asked.

Carter seemed to be looking for a delicate way to phrase her response, but she didn't get a chance to find it because Baldur answered for her. "The Tok'ra are a Goa'uld resistance movement," he said bluntly.

"In what sense?" Sam pressed.

"They are the same species."

"But," Carter continued with an annoyed glance at Baldur, "they're determined to wipe out the evil that the Goa'uld do, so they pose as minor Goa'uld to gather intel and commit sabotage. And they respect their human hosts and truly live symbiotically with them, sharing the body and keeping the host's consciousness inviolate even though the blending does allow for knowledge and emotions to be shared. A Goa'uld suppresses the host's consciousness and completely controls the body."

Sam shuddered involuntarily. He hadn't forgotten the week he'd spent possessed by a demon in 2006, and knowing that Lucifer had picked him out as his One True Vessel didn't make the notion of hosting a symbiote any more appealing.

Dean's mind traveled the same path, and his eyes narrowed. "So you want us to be meatsuits for a couple of snakes?"

Carter shook her head. "It's not like that with the Tok'ra at _all_. And I'm not just speculating. I was the last host of Jolinar of Malkshur; she died saving my life. My dad was host to a Tok'ra for six years before they both died. It wouldn't have to be permanent; heck, General O'Neill was host to a Tok'ra for a few months when he caught an alien plague that we couldn't cure. In fact, I think they'd be more likely to agree to a temporary blending for an emergency like this than they would for a medical emergency."

"But why use us?"

"Whoever's at the hotel knows exactly how many Goa'uld and how many minions came through that mirror," Gabriel noted. "Assuming it's off, we couldn't come up with a plausible reason for any others to show up at the last minute. Now, me?" He laughed. "Everybody knows I'm a party crasher."

"Not only that," Carter added, "but it's the fastest way for you to learn everything you need to know about the Goa'uld and how to stop them. And you've already got a cover story--didn't you say one of the symbiotes in the kitchen tried to bite you?"

Dean nodded and ran a hand over his mouth and chin. "Yeah. No, I get that part. It's just... we've got archangels looking to jump our bones so they can use us to kill each other. Now we've got a hotel full of fake gods posing a threat of their own. We've got to take them out, let these dudes"--here he indicated the Asgard--"use the mirror thing to get back to their own reality, get past Lucifer again... and you want us to play host to a couple of snakes."

"I know it's a lot to ask," Carter said gently. "I wouldn't suggest it if I thought they would hurt you. I've trusted them with the lives of the men who mean most to me in two galaxies, and the Tok'ra saved them all."

Dean sighed. "Can you give us a minute to decide?"

"Sure. I need to clear it with General O'Neill and General Landry anyway, and then we'll need to contact the Tok'ra. But we probably don't have much time, so don't take too long."

Carter and the Asgard left. For a long moment, the brothers and the archangel simply stared at each other.

Gabriel finally sighed. "I think she's right. If Lucifer shows up, he's going to show up soon, and either way they're going to miss you before much longer. There's not enough time for you to learn enough to fake it. Or for me to fake for you."

"You think it'll work, then?" Dean asked. "I mean, our... unique... situation isn't gonna cause problems for us?"

"How should I know? We're not talking about demons here. And it's not like I've paid much attention to sentient parasites from the back of beyond that go god-modding across the galaxy."

Sam stared at his hands, his jaw working as memories of being possessed surfaced unbidden. Dean put a hand on his arm, and they locked eyes for a moment, sharing their unease and the knowledge that there wasn't really a better option.

"Just for this," Dean said.

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

Dean squeezed his arm, stood, and strode over to the door. It opened as soon as he knocked; Colonel Carter was just coming around the corner. "You've decided?" she called.

"We'll do it."

Carter nodded. "We need to hurry. The generals weren't happy, but they're on board, and the Tok'ra are waiting for you."

And almost before they knew what was happening, men and angel were beamed down to a bunker-like room and escorted up a metal ramp and through a round gateway that looked like a glowing puddle (and man, was _that_ a weird sensation, going through whatever it was), down sand-swept steps on the other side, onto a platform that sent up a series of rings and transported them elsewhere in a flash, and through a hall or tunnel to a room where a bunch of oddly-dressed people were waiting for them.

"Welcome," a woman said in a strangely distorted voice. "We understand that you have need of the services of the Tok'ra."

"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied, not wanting to give himself time to talk himself out of the idea. "My brother and I, we're... the hosts."

The woman bobbed her head once and gestured toward two elderly men who were seated in the middle of the room. "Salim and Dishon have volunteered for this mission," she stated in a normal voice. "They too are brothers. The symbiotes are still young by our reckoning, but their hosts are nearing death. You have come to us at a good time."

"What do we have to do?"

"Ordinarily the symbiote is transferred by a kiss."

"Don't worry, young man," laughed Dishon's host at Dean's dismayed expression. "Our lips need not touch."

Dean heard Gabriel sniggering and rounded on him. "Not. A. Word."

Gabriel didn't stop sniggering, but he held up a hand in acknowledgment.

Dean turned back to Sam, who took a deep breath and let it out again. Then together they walked up to the old men and leaned in for an open-mouthed kiss.

Dean's mouth was still a good inch away from the other man's when Dishon jumped. Dean gagged involuntarily, but Dishon had already burrowed into position through the back of his throat, and Dean could practically feel the Tok'ra's knowledge unspooling in his brain.

_Thanks for this_, Dean heard as Dishon accomplished the blending, sounding for all the world like he was settling into the back seat of the Impala and not into Dean's brain. _May I say my farewells? I will return control before we depart for the Stargate_.

_Um, sure_, Dean replied, still reeling.

It was weird, allowing control of his body to shift to the Tok'ra and hearing it speak with his own voice, distorted though it was. It was even weirder that Dishon glanced at Sam/Salim at the exact moment Dean wanted to do so himself. Weirdest of all was that Salim and Dishon seemed to communicate almost exactly the same way Sam and Dean did.

But really, what wasn't weird about life as a Winchester?

Dishon laughed at that thought and returned control to Dean. A head bob told him that Salim had done the same with Sam.

"You okay, Sam?" Dean asked.

Sam looked a bit freaked, but he swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

The woman--Keturah, Dishon informed him--handed each brother a small satchel. Inside, she explained, were such weapons as a minor Goa'uld would carry: a snake-shaped energy weapon called a zat'ni'katel (zat for short, said someone on the SG team that escorted them), a hand device that looked like the Chinese guy's hand jewelry, and a few ceremonial daggers, plus a personal shield and a cloaking device that was a combination of Ancient, Tok'ra, and Earth technologies, as well as an Asgard communication stone. Sam's also held a healing device, since Salim was going undercover as a healer.

_Bobby_, Dean immediately thought.

_After the mission_, Dishon thought back, but there was definite sympathy in his tone.

"Good luck," said Keturah, shaking hands with both blended brothers.

"Thanks," was all either one could manage.

And then they were off again. There was very little in the way of conversation on the way back to the Stargate, but Gabriel kept shooting both brothers looks of thinly veiled concern and curiosity. Dishon actually noticed it before Dean did. Both decided not to call him on it.

Once they had returned to Earth, though, Gabriel took charge of the situation, giving a brief word of thanks to the people in the SGC's Gateroom and zapping both men back to the hotel parking lot before General Landry could say anything. "You kids go ahead," he said with a nod. "I wasn't invited, so I'll crash the party in a few minutes."

Sam and Dean exchanged a nod and went back inside the hotel.

Immediately, the creepy desk clerk (_neither Goa'uld nor Jaffa_, Dishon observed, _but not Tau'ri, either_) hailed them. "I was asked to bring you gentlemen to the ballroom as soon as you returned."

"Oh, sorry, we just had to run to Walmart for a couple of things," Dean shrugged with a grin. "We'll take this stuff to our room and be right down."

The clerk waved his hand, and the bags were gone.

_Yep, he's one of ours_, Dean thought as his grin froze.

Dishon cursed quietly in a language that was definitely not English.

"If you please, gentlemen," the clerk repeated.

With a deep breath, the brothers followed.

_What is he?_ Dishon asked.

_Hell if I know yet_, Dean replied. _Our working theory is that he's a pagan god, but it's too soon to be sure. And it's not like I'm gonna yell "Christo" in a room full of System Lords to see if he's a demon._

_I do not envy you the life you've led if it involves so many creatures like _that_._

Dean bit back a smile. _Trust me, pal. We've seen worse._

* * *

Sam liked Salim. The symbiote transfer had been unpleasant, though not as bad as Meg jumping down his throat, and the blending and first shift of control had left him woozy. But then Salim had given control back and retreated to a corner of Sam's mind--and quietly freaked out about the demon blood for a moment.

_Guess we forgot to warn you about that_, Sam had thought apologetically.

_I thought you were a _hok'taur _from Col. Carter's description_, Salim had replied, still sounding a bit panicked, _but this... is not quite what I had imagined._ He paused, and Sam could almost hear him making the effort to pull himself together. _Right, well... I apologize in advance if I accidentally activate something I should not._

Neither Dean nor Gabriel had caught Sam's relieved grin at that. Not that he really wanted Salim to mess with his powers, but the fact that Salim was as nervous as Sam was about the whole situation somehow managed to put them both at ease. And Sam's explaining to Salim about the sigils Castiel had carved on his ribs to hide him from both angels and demons made them feel even more comfortable with each other.

Now, as they were being led into a room full of creatures he'd never seen before, Sam was grateful to have Salim's knowledge and confidence to bolster his own. Castiel had been missing in action for over a week, and Gabriel wasn't the most reliable backup in the world, so it helped to have someone other than Dean at his back. Literally.

The creepy desk clerk ushered the Winchesters to seats at the ends of two long tables, each of which seated eight, and took his place in the one empty seat at the right table, closest to the head table. There were other tables beyond these three and dozens of tattooed servants milling among them and lining the walls, but Salim recognized most of the people at the central tables as System Lords. Sam scanned each table slowly enough for Salim to identify each Goa'uld for him. The clerk, they had already concluded, had to be a genuine god.

Then Sam looked at the individuals at the head table, and Salim was completely confused. _Those two, the man and the woman.__ They also are not Goa'uld. I thought you said there was only one "god" present._

_That's what we thought earlier_, Sam replied. _Guess Baldur didn't give us the names of everyone who came._

_Well, we now have three beings to keep an eye on. Though I suppose it could be worse if they were all genuine gods._

Sam's reply to that idea was unprintable. Salim agreed.

* * *

Dean decided to let Dishon keep tabs on Baldur's speech--apparently the dark-haired man at the head table was the original Baldur, whose identity the alien had stolen, and the dark-skinned woman was the original Kali the Destroyer--while he cased the room for exits. The only one visible was directly behind them, which could make a hasty exit somewhat tricky without Gabriel. But Dishon nudged him when Baldur began talking about the Apocalypse and how they needed to band together to prevent Earth from being annihilated. Both readied themselves for the Tok'ra's entrance.

And it wasn't long before Baldur gave them a cue, pointing directly at both Sam and Dean. "We do have two very valuable bargaining chips: Michael and Lucifer's vessels. So the question is: what do we do now?"

Dean was surprised he didn't physically jolt when Dishon seized control, but he thought he caught a glimpse of the eye flash reflected in a champagne glass, and the Goa'uld were startled as Dishon said flatly, "They may not be as valuable now as you think."

Baldur frowned. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"I am Dishon. The Tau'ri stumbled upon us in the kitchen. My brother Salim and I were desperate, so we took them. We did not know they were not to be hosts."

"The symbiote container was disturbed," Zao Shen confirmed. "I did not realize any were missing. But why did you attack me?"

"We are young and did not as yet have perfect control," Salim replied with a shrug. "They are strong, these two, and I believe this host may be a _hok'taur_. He fought me until we were outside."

"This may be a good thing," Qetesh observed (and was _that_ ever a creepy voice to be coming out of Claudia Black's face). "If Dishon and Salim can keep the Winchesters under control, we should be better able to use them to best advantage, whether we exchange them or keep them as hosts."

"We would be most happy to serve the lady Qetesh," Dishon said with a slight bow, which she rewarded with a dazzling smile.

"But what advantage is there to keeping them if we do not have a plan?" Camulus frowned.

"And what evidence do you have that this apocalypse is a threat worthy of our attention?" added a Japanese woman whom Dishon had identified as Amaterasu. "If the Tau'ri of this reality are strong enough to ally with the remains of the Four Races to defeat the System Lords, why can they not defeat Sokar themselves?"

"Lucifer is not Sokar," replied Salim, "just as this Baldur is not Asgard. The weapons these Tau'ri have acquired from the Four Races will not suffice--not even Atlantis herself would be powerful enough to defeat Lucifer and his army of demons. That is," he added with a laugh, "if Sam Winchester's memories can be believed. He also claims his brother was framed for murder by a shapeshifter!"

Dean would have smacked his face with his palm at the laughter that erupted at that proclamation if he'd been in control. Dishon sent him the mental equivalent of a reassuring pat on the arm.

_He's not helping!_

_Patience, Dean_, Dishon chuckled. _That is precisely what a young Goa'uld would say under the circumstances. The beast you call a shapeshifter is unique to Earth, and these System Lords did not live in areas where they were common two thousand years ago. And we want to keep them off balance for a while yet. There will be time enough for them to learn of their folly concerning Lucifer._

"If we are to fight," Morrigan stated, "we will need to acquire weapons. I understand there is an organization here on Earth that could supply us with what we need."

"You speak of the Trust," Bastet nodded.

Dishon inclined his head. "One of Dean Winchester's hunting contacts also works with the Trust," he lied. "We acquired some basic weapons from him just now--but I do not think he would welcome the idea of aiding the System Lords."

"Not to worry," Morrigan replied. "I have other means of contacting them. I extracted Ba'al's memories of his confederates on Earth before I killed him; they should prove most useful, differences between realities notwithstanding."

"We should contact them quickly if we are to do so," Qetesh warned. "We do not know where Lucifer is or when he may attempt to move against us."

Amaterasu shook her head. "I repeat: what business is this of ours?"

Five of the System Lords all started talking at once, and from there the discussion rapidly devolved into a shouting match.

_Let's get out of here_, Dean thought.

Apparently the rest of the team had come to the same conclusion, given the glance that passed between Dishon and Salim. They silently rose as one and started toward the doors--only for the chandelier to crash down in front of them before the Jaffa could even stir. They turned back to find Kali glaring at them.

"Stay," she ordered, and even the Tok'ra were rattled enough to obey.

"We have to fight," Kali continued. "You Goa'uld may not have dealt with archangels before, but I have. All they understand is violence. This ends in blood. It's them or us. There is no other way."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Mercury ventured, "we haven't even tried talking to them."

Goa'uld can death-glare with the best of them, but their disapproval was not enough of itself to kill. Kali, on the other hand, took one look at Mercury, and the Greek god found himself choking on his own blood. The false gods' shock was palpable.

_They were not expecting that_, Dishon informed Dean, both fighting their own panic. _They cannot do that without a hand device or a pain stick. I cannot tell if that helps us or hurts us._

"Kali," Baldur objected.

Kali didn't stop staring at Mercury, but she did stop choking him. "Who asked you?"

And Gabriel, with his impeccable sense of timing, flung open the doors and cried, "Can't we all just get along?"

Had Dean been driving, he would have passed out from sheer relief.

* * *

A/N: Gateworld doesn't have a Goa'uld glossary anywhere that I can see, so I went with a Bible name dictionary and found two names that I thought were appropriate:

Dishon = Antelope (which isn't too far from... Impala!)  
Salim = Peace

Also, for those who don't know, both Goa'uld and Tok'ra are the same in singular and plural, and _hok'taur_ refers to an "advanced" human.


	3. There's Battle Lines Being Drawn

A/N: There's a fair amount of dialogue from "Hammer of the Gods" in this chapter and the next, though I have tried to keep it fair use (and you may notice I've cleaned up the language a smidge and skipped the blood spell--hey, it _is_ AU). Also, while I'm not exactly a fan of Kali the Destroyer, she seems in Kripke-verse to have the potential to be the sort of uneasy ally that Todd is in SGA, though maybe slightly more reliable.

* * *

Chapter 3  
There's Battle Lines Being Drawn

Lt. Gen. Jack O'Neill wasn't sure what he'd expected to encounter upon beaming from his office in Washington to the _Hammond_ to Stargate Command in Colorado Springs. But it certainly wasn't being cornered in the briefing room by an irate Maj. Gen. Hank Landry.

"Nobody told me those people could _teleport!_" Hank shouted.

"What?" Jack frowned.

"Those civilians Carter had us send to P3X-9847. The second they came back through the Gate, the one called Gabriel said, 'Hey, thanks for everything, gotta go,' snapped his fingers, and they were gone!"

Jack felt a headache coming on. "Isn't he the one who claims to be an archangel?"

"Angels don't exist, Jack, no matter what Carter says. Nor pagan gods, for that matter--the only ones we know of are all dead. And why are we trusting _Sam and Dean Winchester_, anyway? Have you read their FBI file?"

"The one according to which they're both dead?" Hank huffed in irritation, but Jack didn't give him time to respond further. "Hank, as of yesterday the Elysian Fields Hotel had been abandoned for thirty years, but tonight the _Hammond_ picked up enough life signs there for a Shriner convention. And that storm over Muncie appeared out of nowhere, according to NOAA. The Goa'uld can't do that, not on Earth. Now, I don't know what's really going on with this whole angels-and-gods-and-Apocalypse business, and neither does Carter. Maybe they're non-ascended Ancients; maybe they're something else. But I did talk to the two Asgard those kids found, and they're convinced we made the right call. Hell, Baldur was the one who gave 'em my phone number."

Hank sighed. "You still should have warned me."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud--I didn't know, either!"

Hank grumbled something under his breath, then said, "Guess we should see if Dr. Jackson's come up with anything useful on signs of the Apocalypse."

"Now _that_ is a good plan." Jack followed him out of the briefing room, wondering how in the world his already insane life had gotten this much weirder in one night.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Muncie, Dishon and Salim were still in control of Sam and Dean's bodies, but both very nearly let slip a relieved cry of "Gabriel!"

The archangel, for his part, decided to take no chances and deprived them both of their voices. "Sam, Dean. It's always wrong place, worst time with you muttonheads, isn't it?"

"_Loki_," Baldur growled, his voice dripping with contempt.

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise as he sauntered past the brothers. "Baldur! Good seeing you two again," he added with a glance at Kali. "I guess my invitation got lost in the mail."

Mercury was visibly nervous, and Dean and Dishon concluded at the same time that he was likely behind the summoning of the Goa'uld. Kali looked warily pleased, which probably meant that she had left the summoning book for the Asgard and dropped enough hints to convince them to summon Gabriel. And Baldur... just looked annoyed.

"_Why_ are you here?" Baldur asked Gabriel.

"To talk about the elephant in the room," Gabriel replied, then added to an offended Ganesh, "_Not_ you. The Apocalypse. We can't stop it, gang. But first things first." He turned back to the Winchesters with a patronizing smile. "The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later."

He snapped, and the brothers were back in their room. Salim and Dishon gave way to Sam and Dean, and all four babbled helplessly for a few seconds while they regained their composure.

"All right, so what's our next move?" Sam finally asked.

"I... I... I dunno. Need to report to Col. Carter, but after that... grab those poor saps out of the freezer, I guess, bust 'em out? Maybe gank a few snakes along the way if we're lucky?"

"And when are you ever lucky?" drawled Gabriel from the couch.

Dishon nudged Dean aside before he could voice the vulgar retort that was forming on his lips. "Your entrance was perfect, archangel," the Tok'ra said. "We thank you."

Gabriel stood. "Don't thank me till we're out of here. And unless we get Kali on our side, that won't be easy. Right now, it looks like those guys are going to either dust you or use you as bait, even though they bought the cover story. We need to get a move on so the _Hammond_ can waste the Goa'uld before Lucifer does."

Dean nudged Dishon back. "Why do you care?" he demanded.

"I don't. Care." Gabriel looked a bit awkward. "But me and Kali... we had a thing. Chick was all hands," he added as an aside. When the Winchesters rolled their eyes, he continued, "What can I say? I'm sentimental."

"Do they have a chance?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Really, Sam?" Dean chided.

"Do you have a better idea, Dean?"

"It's a _bad_ idea," Gabriel replied. "Even if it worked, there are fifteen System Lords down there who all want a piece of this planet. It doesn't take a psychic to read those minds. They'll cause twice the destruction with half the provocation. But all those snakeheads are no match for real gods without their technology, and even Kali is no match for my brother. So let's make our report and get going while the going's good."

"Why don't you just zap us back to the _Hammond_?" Dean frowned.

"Would if I could. Kali's placed some sort of spell over the hotel since we got back--no one leaves without her say-so. Which means it's time for a little of the old black magic." He pulled out a breath spray and squirted it into his mouth.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We're takin' the hors d'oeuvres in the freezer with us."

"Forget it. It's gonna be hard enough getting you mooks out of here."

Dean and Dishon once more had the same idea at the same time, and Dean voiced it. "Baldur called you Loki. That means nobody in that room knows who you really are."

"Like I said, I'm in witness protection," Gabriel shrugged.

"Well, how about you do what we say, or we tell the Legion of Doom about your secret identity. Neither side seems like a real pro-angel kind of crowd."

Gabriel frowned. "I'll take your voices away."

"We'll write it down."

"I'll cut off your hands."

"Well, then people will be asking, 'Why are you guys walkin' around with no hands?'"

Gabriel glanced at Sam, who glared back. "Fine," he snapped. "Call Col. Carter while I go talk to Kali." And he vanished.

Sam immediately retrieved their satchels from where Mercury had left them (small mercies--they were in the closet) and tossed one to Dean, and they each fished out the communication stones. Some quick mental tutelage from the Tok'ra, and they had a secure subspace channel to the _Hammond_.

"How's it going down there?" Carter asked.

"Not good," Dean replied. "We've got fifteen System Lords, probably twenty minor Goa'uld, fifty Jaffa. Oh, and _three_ genuine pagan gods, not one. Gabriel's trying to get Kali to work with us. Mercury's a weasel, probably sell us out to Lucifer in a heartbeat. Baldur--the real one, not your Asgard friend--seems okay for a god, but he's probably desperate enough to arm the System Lords if Kali convinces them to fight."

"Gabriel's sure they don't have a chance," Sam added. "But that probably won't stop them from trying."

Carter cursed. "We're detecting some kind of EM shielding around the hotel. We can't beam you out."

"Yeah, Gabriel said Kali's got some kind of spell up preventing people from leaving, and that kind of magic often has an EM signature." Sam paused. "Salim just reminded me that Morrigan and Qetesh talked about trying to contact the Trust."

"They probably will if they decide to fight. We'll have the NID monitor the phone lines and Internet access, as well as subspace."

Dean blinked. "Monitor, not block?"

"We're not aware of any Trust operatives in the Muncie area," Carter explained. "The closest cell is probably in Dayton. If the Goa'uld do try to contact someone, it'll give us a chance to set up a sting."

"All right, fair enough." Dean blew the air out of his cheeks. "Okay, look, we're gonna try to bust the civilians out of the freezer. As soon as they're clear, we'll call you to send the Asgard down to the mirror room, and we'll haul freight out of here."

"How long do you think it'll take?"

Sam sighed. "If all goes well, five or ten minutes. If it doesn't? There's no telling."

Carter echoed his sigh. "Copy that. We'll stand by. Carter out."

Dean picked up his zat and examined it. "How does it...." His hand found the controls, and the gun extended, making him jump. "Whoa. Okay." He then fired it experimentally at the wall of the unoccupied room next door and watched the blue energy bolt crackle and disperse. "Huh."

Dishon nudged Dean and accepted control. "The first shot stuns," he explained to both Dean and Sam. "The second shot kills, and the third destroys." He zatted the Casa Erotica ad to demonstrate; the third shot left only a pile of dust.

Sam nodded, impressed. "Nice!"

Dean came back and turned off the zat. "Y'know, I really prefer gunpowder, but this zat thing ain't bad."

They armed themselves with the zats; Dean took his hand device, while Sam took his lock-picking kit. Dean nixed the idea of using the cloaks, since Gabriel needed to see them to be able to zap them out, but Dishon convinced him to put the device in his pocket just in case, and Sam did likewise. After pocketing the communication stones and checking the conventional weapons as well, both the Winchesters' and the Tok'ra's, they headed out to the kitchen.

Their first stop was the vat of symbiotes. Sam zatted it once, then pulled the lid off; some of the symbiotes were still thrashing, but none looked likely to escape. Sam dumped in a generous amount of salt and added a splash of holy water for good measure. Dean then fired his hand device into the container, setting the contents aflame.

"Heh! That was fun," Dean grinned as he took off the device and stashed it in a jacket pocket.

"Don't get used to it," Sam cautioned as he strode over to the freezer.

Dean stationed himself at a point where he could have a clear view of the kitchen door. When Zao Shen turned up, Dishon prompted Dean to throw a knife in order to bypass the Goa'uld's shield; it worked, but Zao Shen's cry as he fell brought Jaffa running from the lobby.

"Can you get it?" Dean called, double-zatting the Jaffa as they reached the doorway.

"No, no time," Sam replied, giving up on the lock and joining Dean.

"Where the hell is Gabriel?"

_Dean_, Dishon interrupted, _we need to pretend to struggle for control. If Gabriel cannot pull us out at once, the Jaffa will capture us before he can get to us. So the Goa'uld must believe Salim and I lost control of you briefly and that we fought back just in time for the Jaffa to restrain you._

A glance at Sam told Dean that Salim had said the same. _Okay._

_Ready?_

The brothers nodded to each other, and Dean fired the zat one last time. _Go._

Though Dean was prepared for Dishon's mental onslaught, he hadn't been quite ready for the convulsions. They let up long enough for Dean to stash his zat among the kitchen implements, and Sam did the same. Then the men and their symbiotes continued their wrestling match as the Jaffa made their way inside, grabbed them, and dragged them--literally kicking and screaming--back into the ballroom.

_Enough_, Dishon called as they passed the doors, and Dean stopped struggling and relinquished control.

Then they spotted Gabriel, whom Kali had clearly overpowered and dragged downstairs to face the music. Dean wasn't sure whether he or Dishon did the loudest internal swearing, but he was sure he didn't want to know what had gone down.

"Peace!" Dishon cried as the Jaffa shoved them into the seats beside Gabriel. "We have control once more. There will be no trouble for the moment."

"What happened?" Camulus demanded.

"I told you they were strong," Salim gasped. "We must make our plans quickly before they fight free of us again."

"We have more important business first," Kali announced. "The Trickster has tricked us."

"Kali," Gabriel cautioned.

She sat on his lap and ran a hand down his chest. "You're trapped now. And you have something I want." She then reached into his jacket and pulled out his sword.

Baldur and Mercury were stunned. The Goa'uld were simply confused.

"It is merely a blade," Bastet shrugged.

"An _archangel_'s blade," Kali corrected, "from the archangel Gabriel."

She walked away, and Gabriel threw up his hands. "Okay, okay. So I got wings. That doesn't make me any less right about Lucifer."

"He's lying," Kali spat. "He's a spy."

"I'm not a spy. I'm a runaway. I'm trying to _save_ you." When Kali rolled her eyes, he leaned forward. "I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living hell out of you." He then turned to the Goa'uld. "You can't beat him. I've skipped ahead, seen how this story ends."

"_Your_ story," Kali interrupted. "Not ours."

Dean tuned out when she started in on an anti-Western rant, choosing instead to keep tabs on the Goa'uld's reactions as best he could with Dishon still in control. Most of them seemed bored or faintly curious. But all that changed when Kali leaned over Gabriel again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and plunged the sword straight into Gabriel's heart.

The light show and shock wave that followed stunned everyone. Dean thought it seemed a bit subdued for an archangel compared to Zachariah's death, but his heart still sank... they'd lost another ally no sooner than they'd gained him. Dishon glanced at Salim and saw the same emotions on his face. The Goa'uld, on the other hand, were shocked and confused.

"This is crazy," Mercury said softly to no one in particular.

"They can die," Kali explained, sounding a bit choked up. "We can kill Lucifer."

_Maybe they can_, Dean thought suddenly. _If nothing else, we can make a deal for those civilians, free up the mirror for the Asgard_.

_Are you out of your mind?_ Dishon thought back, sounding strangely like Sam.

_I'm out of options._

Dishon cleared his throat. "I understand that this is highly unusual," he began, "but my host has stopped fighting me because... he has a proposal. If it please my lady?"

"I am intrigued," Qetesh nodded.

"Let us hear it, then," Morrigan agreed.

Dishon stepped back, and Dean, with the symbiote's encouragement, stood and presented the terms of his proposed alliance: release the civilians, and Sam and Dean would work together with the gods and the Goa'uld to lure Lucifer into a trap. Of course, being Dean, he framed it with as many profanity-laced insults as possible. Salim looked ready to die of embarrassment.

But it worked. Kali dropped her spell; Qetesh and Dean went to let the civilians out of the freezer while Salim stayed with Kali to discuss summoning Lucifer; Baldur and Morrigan went to a telephone to contact the Trust; and Mercury disappeared upstairs somewhere. No one saw what happened to Gabriel, but when Salim looked again, the body was gone and the sword was on the table.

Qetesh agreed to let Dean herd the humans outside. After surreptitiously retrieving the zats from the kitchen, Dean palmed the communication stone and activated it long enough to shout "GO!" as soon as he crossed the threshold to the parking lot. He then looked up to see a white flash from one of the third floor windows, followed by another flash that presumably indicated the Asgard's activation of the mirror. None of the fleeing Tau'ri seemed to notice it.

He was just about to go back inside when he heard a "Psst! Dean!" from the back seat of the Impala.

_Is that..._ Dishon wondered as they made out a face peering out the back window.

"Don't look at me!" Gabriel stage-whispered. "Act natural! Get in!"

Dean thought of a string of very inventive curses as he walked around the car to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel. "There is nothin' natural about this at _all_," he said as he closed the door. "I thought you were dead."

Gabriel scoffed. "You think I'd give Kali my real sword? That thing could kill me!"

"Then what do they have in there?"

"A fake," Gabriel replied smugly. "Made it out of a can of diet orange Slice."

_... Wow_, was all the reaction Dishon could muster. Dean couldn't even manage that.

"So, ah... go snag Sam, would you? I've already brought the luggage down. Let's get out of here."

Dean blinked. "What?"

"I heard you in there. Kali likes you. You talked her into letting the civilians go; you can talk her into letting _us_ go."

"No. Hand over the real blade. Or better yet, why don't you man up and help us take down Lucifer?"

"You can't be serious," Gabriel and Dishon said at the same time.

Dean nodded. "Deadly."

"Since when are you best buddies with a bunch of monsters?" Gabriel pressed. "That's all they are to you, aren't they?"

"The Goa'uld are, yeah, and we can waste them later. But you know what, Sam was right. It's nuts, but it's the best idea I've heard. So unless you have a better one...."

Gabriel slapped the back of the front seat in irritation. "Well, good luck with that. Me, I'm blowing Jonestown."

Dishon nudged Dean, who gave way. "Gabriel," the Tok'ra said soberly, "though I do not approve, I cannot stop Dean from carrying out his scheme. But I do not believe your show of indifference any more than he does. We do need your help."

"Dishon...."

Dishon retreated, and Dean shook his head. "Kali's gonna die in there without you."

"I can't kill my brother," Gabriel objected weakly.

"Can't or won't?"

Gabriel didn't reply.

"That's what I thought." And Dean went back inside.

_You are not willing to sacrifice your brother_, Dishon observed mildly.

_Shut up, Dishon._


	4. The Devil Went Down to Muncie

Chapter 4  
The Devil Went Down to Muncie

Once everyone else had left the ballroom, Kali turned to Salim. "Speaking of spies," she began, "I have heard legends of a rebel force of Goa'uld who live in harmony with their vessels. You are Tok'ra, are you not?"

Sam swore, but Salim kept his composure. "I assure you, great lady...."

She held up a hand. "Enough. I am no friend to the Goa'uld. I won't betray you. Just let me speak to your host."

A beat passed, and Salim complied. Sam grinned sheepishly at her. "Um. Hi."

"Sam." Kali picked up the sword and examined the blade with a practiced eye. "Was Dean serious?"

"Yes, ma'am. We've been trying to find alternatives to becoming vessels since... well, since we first found out what the plan was. If you can help us...."

Kali swung the sword through a few paces, acquainting herself with the weapon. "It would be a shame for me to have to kill you along with Lucifer."

Sam swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am. I'd rather die as myself, to be honest."

She chuckled. "So polite."

He shrugged. "Force of habit."

"It's a good habit to observe when addressing a goddess."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kali shadow-sparred for a moment longer. "You should know," she said as she finished, "that using the quantum mirror was Mercury's idea. There are so few of us left that Baldur feared we could not gather enough strength. He wasn't happy that Mercury summoned Goa'uld, never mind that Qetesh brought those Asgard prisoners with her, but he was willing to make a deal with them if they would help us against Lucifer. But I do not fear this archangel, though I face him alone."

Sam wasn't sure what to say to that.

But Kali frowned and looked up as if she heard something upstairs. Then she smiled in satisfaction. "Your friends have returned the Asgard," she told Sam, "and they have gone through the mirror. I'll ensure that it can't be used again." And she vanished.

_Is that a good idea?_ Sam wondered, wandering over to the door to make sure Dean had gotten the civilians out.

_It is in that reality's best interest for the Goa'uld to die here_, Salim replied. _From that perspective, who kills them is unimportant_.

Sam heard a noise behind him and turned just as Kali reappeared. Seconds later, Baldur joined them. "Morrigan has reached the Trust," he reported. "The weapons we require should reach us within two hours."

"Then we're ready?" Kali asked.

"Will be," Baldur nodded.

She turned to Sam. "So. You're going to summon Lucifer."

"Sort of," Sam agreed. "I just need you to squeegee some stuff from my ribs, and he'll come running."

"Breaking them would be easier."

Before Sam could come up with an adequate reply to that, the door opened, and Sam could tell from the stance of his brother's form that Dishon was driving. "Gabriel lives," the Tok'ra said without preamble. "The sword is false."

Kali and Baldur exchanged a stunned look.

"Kali knows about us, Dean," Sam said quietly.

Dishon gave place to Dean, who smacked Sam upside the head. "You told her?"

"No! She figured it out! I swear!"

And suddenly the lights began flickering. Dean quickly shoved a zat into Sam's hand, though they both knew that energy weapons were likely to be useless.

"What's happening?" Baldur asked.

Screams, zat fire, blasts from Jaffa staff weapons, war cries choked off in mid-yell--all began to echo into the ballroom from the halls outside. Sam could almost feel Salim winding more tightly around his spine, and the Tok'ra's panic matched his own. And just as suddenly the battle noises ceased. It didn't take a psychic to know that the Goa'uld and their Jaffa were all dead.

"What's happening?" Baldur demanded again.

"It's him," Sam gasped.

"How?" Kali frowned.

"Does it matter?" Dean retorted. "Shazam us outta here, would you?"

Baldur sighed. "We can't."

"Of course you can't," said a smug voice from behind the brothers. "You didn't say 'Mother, may I?'"

Sam and Dean turned, and the symbiotes got their first look at the Enemy. It was all Sam could do to keep from hyperventilating, and Salim's creative cursing wasn't helping.

"Sam, Dean," Lucifer nodded casually. "Good to see you again."

Despite a caution from Kali, Baldur charged straight at Lucifer and got a fist through the chest for his trouble. Then Kali summoned fire, and Sam and Dean took cover behind a table, knowing she wasn't likely to succeed in immolating a being that had spent however many thousands of years locked in the Pit. Sam glanced over the table to see Kali attempt to punch Lucifer with her still-flaming fists, but he knocked her down before she could connect.

"You okay?" Sam asked Dean as he ducked down again.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"Not really," said Gabriel, suddenly appearing on Dean's other side. He met their stare with an apologetic shrug of the eyebrows. "Better late than never, huh?"

Dean nodded his agreement.

Gabriel shoved a DVD into Dean's hand. "Guard this with your life." And he ducked around the end of the table.

Lucifer, Sam could see, was just about to stomp Kali's lights out for good when he was flung through the ballroom doors and against the far wall of the hallway. Then Gabriel showed himself, standing over a barely conscious Kali with his sword drawn.

"Luci, I'm home," Gabriel deadpanned.

As Lucifer scrambled to his feet, Gabriel helped Kali up and called the brothers to get her out. They flanked her and hustled her out, Gabriel covering their six as they cleared the doors, but Sam glanced back as Lucifer began to taunt Gabriel for fighting him "over a girl," and it was clear that Gabriel intended not to leave the ballroom. Sam looked at Dean, and the look Dean shot back was unmistakable: _Let's get out of here._

_But Gabriel could die_, Salim objected.

_I'm sure he knows that_, Sam replied. _We shouldn't interfere_.

Salim fell quiet after that until they were outside and had Kali securely in the back seat of the Impala despite her protests. Then with an eye flash, he and Dishon seized control, activated their cloaks, and ran back into the hotel.

_HEY!_ Sam yelled.

_Sorry, Sam_, Salim thought back, _but this may be the most important thing we have learned from the Tau'ri._

It was too late to argue then, as they were rounding the corner to the ballroom. They stopped on either side of the doors as Gabriel... proclaimed his loyalty to _humanity_ in the face of Lucifer's objections.

For once, Sam knew the Trickster was serious. And he realized that Salim was right.

* * *

Dean had been ticked at Dishon's seizing control until he actually saw Gabriel facing down Lucifer and telling him how he genuinely felt, standing up for humanity and for free will. It was kind of inspiring. And then he spotted the _real_ Gabriel sneaking up behind Lucifer and swore. _I can't believe I put him up to this, and he comes up with an idea this stupid!_

_We will get him out, Dean_, Dishon promised, slipping on the hand device.

"I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel," Lucifer was saying. "But I know where your heart truly lies--here." He spun away from the apparition in front of him and caught Gabriel's hand on the downstroke, intending to turn the blade and drive it into Gabriel's heart.

Twin zat blasts caught Lucifer in the back before he could follow through, however, and Gabriel slipped from his grasp. Yet a cry proved that the blade had injured the wayward angel after all, and the apparition vanished in a puff of smoke.

The Tok'ra dropped their cloaks. "RUN!" Dishon cried and fired his hand device at Lucifer, knocking him down.

Clutching his wounded abdomen and bloody sword, Gabriel dashed past his fallen brother and over to Salim, who grabbed his arm and hustled him outside. Dishon fired the hand device twice more to cover them.

"You can't kill me with that thing, you know," Lucifer groaned as he staggered to his feet once more.

"Perhaps not," Dishon snarled, "but I can live to fight another day."

A final bolt caught Lucifer squarely in the chest--and suddenly Dishon was behind the wheel of the Impala. Sam was beside him, and Kali was tending Gabriel in the back seat.

"Let's go, Dean," Sam prompted.

Dishon gave way to Dean, who didn't have to be asked twice. As they peeled out of the parking lot, Kali shot a murderous look out the back window, and the Elysian Fields Hotel burst into flame.

"Will he live?" Dean asked over his shoulder.

"Yes," Kali said quietly, returning her attention to her former consort. "The wound is deep and goes to his very grace, but it was not a killing stroke."

"You shouldn't have come back for me," Gabriel moaned.

"We didn't," Sam confessed. "But it seems the Tok'ra have been taking lessons from the Marines--leave no man behind. Or angel, in your case."

Gabriel snorted, mumbled an unintelligible but affectionate insult, and succumbed to the healing sleep Kali was placing him under.

* * *

Once they were a safe distance from Muncie, Dean pulled over and Sam called Col. Carter. After a short conversation, Carter beamed the entire crew, Impala and all, up to a hangar on the _Hammond_ and down again to a vacant parking lot at the Cheyenne Mountain military complex. She then beamed herself down outside the car. Sam and Dean got out first, and Dean held the door for Kali, who bundled Gabriel into her arms and carried him as if he weighed no more than a child.

Carter took one look at Gabriel and said, "C'mon. Let's get him to the infirmary."

"He doesn't need mortal medicine," Kali replied imperiously. "His healing has already begun."

"Ah, Col. Carter, this is Kali," Sam interjected, then mouthed, _The real one_.

Carter acknowledged him with a nod. "Well, Kali, I understand that your methods might be different from ours, but we should at least let him rest on a bed."

Kali studied her for a moment before nodding. "Very well."

Carter quickly led them inside, vouching for them at the desk and arranging for a medical team to meet them on Level 11, where they changed elevators. Kali was clearly even less comfortable in the elevator than she had been in the car, but she made a visible effort to maintain her composure and neither smote anyone nor broke anything on the way to the infirmary. When they arrived, Dr. Lam was intrigued by Gabriel's vital stats, but the cold stare she got from Kali and a gentle prompt from Carter convinced her to curb her curiosity and determine the state of Gabriel's wound once he was situated. She also directed the staff to take blood samples from Sam and Dean to keep on file. Dean started to object that they really shouldn't leave biological samples where a demon or witch could potentially get at them, but the nurse had a needle in his arm before he could say anything.

"Everything seems to be under control," Lam concluded as the nurses finished with the Winchesters. "The wound's not bleeding, and the tissue is regenerating rapidly. He should be fine in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Doctor," Sam replied, visibly relieved.

"Mind if we sit with him, Doc?" Dean asked.

"That's fine," Lam nodded.

"General O'Neill wants a debriefing as soon as possible," Carter noted, "but I think he'll be willing to wait until Gabriel's conscious. Excuse me."

Lam and Carter both left, and Sam sank into one of the chairs beside Gabriel's bed. "He almost died, Dean," he said in a small voice. "Not that he's my favorite angel, but... he almost died. For us."

Dean nodded. Gabriel was annoying, but at least he was more or less on their side. They could use his help. "Guess we owe the Tok'ra for makin' us save him."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Yeah. Oh, and you, too, Kali, for healing him."

Kali shrugged. "I was fond of him once."

Dean chuckled at that, then sobered. "Um, Kali... could I talk to you for a minute? Outside?"

Kali looked hard at him briefly, then nodded. "Very well."

Once they were out in the hall, Dean said quietly, "Look, we may not be on the best of terms, and ordinarily I wouldn't ask you for this, but I need you to do me a favor."

"I won't make any promises," Kali replied flatly, "but you may ask."

"There's a girl I know in Cicero, Indiana. Lisa Braeden. She's got a kid. I... think I'm the father." Kali arched an eyebrow but said nothing, and he continued, "Anyway, I promised her I'd make sure she and Ben stayed safe. Kinda lost my chance to bargain with Michael last week, and God won't answer His phone, so... well, you're a mother goddess, right?"

Kali studied his face for a moment. "What will you offer me in exchange for her safety?"

Dean shrugged. "We won't come after you."

"As if you could kill me."

"Listen, _I_ killed a seraph last week and the Whore of Babylon the week before that. And Sam and Gabe and I saved your life back there. Lucifer would've ganked you just like he did Baldur and Mercury."

She considered a moment longer, until Dean's head bowed and Dishon came forward. "He is sincere, great lady," the Tok'ra assured her. "This woman is part of his dream of the normal life he cannot have. His greatest fears are for his brother and their adopted kin, but Lisa and Ben are a close second. He will fight better knowing they are protected, even if that protection comes from one he deems a murderer."

_Oh, thanks_, Dean grumbled. _Way to make the case for me_.

_Shut up, Dean._ And Dishon relinquished control again.

"I really am happier on the front lines," Kali noted with a ghost of a smile. "But I will help you in this. Nothing will harm them as long as you are fighting Lucifer--but only as yourself or as Tok'ra. If Michael claims you...."

"All bets are off," Dean agreed. "Understood."

Kali bowed her head once and vanished. Dean sighed and walked back into the infirmary, suddenly feeling the adrenaline crash.

"Kali gone?" Sam asked as Dean sat down beside him.

"Yeah. Sent her to Cicero."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at that but said nothing.

_Dean_, Dishon suddenly said, _would you let me drive for a bit? You can rest, but I need to speak to my brother. I will wake you when Gabriel regains consciousness._

Dean blinked. _Seriously?__ I can sleep while you're in control?_

_Your mind rests, yes. The body does not, but you will not need the same amount of physical sleep so long as I am with you._

_Huh. Awesome._ "Hey, Sammy? Dishon needs to talk to Salim."

"Yeah, Salim just said the same thing," Sam replied wearily. "Catch you later."

"Right."

They switched at the same time, and Dean could hear the symbiotes exchanging pleasantries in Goa'uld as he drifted off.


	5. Good Old Plan D

Chapter 5  
Good Old Plan D

_Dean. **Dean.**_

Dishon's voice cut into Dean's dream as insistently as if another person were shaking him awake from the outside. Dean thought idly that at least the symbiote hadn't taken to _invading_ his dreams the way Castiel and Anna had.

Dishon snorted, amused. _As if an Earthling's dreams could interest me. Come, Gabriel wakes_.

That woke Dean up for real, and he quickly found himself in control again. A exchange of glances and nods told him the same was true for Sam.

"'Sweird watching you four," Gabriel said muzzily. "'S like something out of _Wormhole X-Treme_."

Sam grinned. "Hey, Gabriel."

"How you doing?" Dean asked.

Gabriel groaned, and Sam jumped up to help him raise the head of the bed. "Believe it or not, I have felt worse," Gabriel replied. "Whatever Kali did helped. But I don't think I'm gonna be flying for a few hours." He frowned. "Speaking of which, what time is it?"

Dean glanced at his watch and started. "Almost 11 Central, 10 local time--we're outside Colorado Springs."

Gabriel started to say something but stopped and frowned at the doorway. Sam and Dean followed his line of sight to see a vaguely familiar figure coming into the room.

Sam blinked. "Rob? What are you doing here?"

The newcomer paused, clearly confused. "Excuse me?"

_That's Daniel Jackson_, Dishon informed Dean with the awe of a true fan, _not the man from Blue Earth_.

Dean did a swift tally of differences--shorter hair, no beard, glasses, different posture, vaguely nerdy air combined with something even more vague that reminded him of the Asgard's joke about who had died more often--and nodded. "Sorry, you look just like a guy we met in Minnesota a couple of weeks ago. Dean Winchester."

"Daniel Jackson." They shook hands, and Jackson continued, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I've got a double on Earth. I've run into more copies of myself in this job... well, most of that's classified."

_I'll tell you later_, Dishon said conspiratorially, and Dean just managed not to smirk.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, reaching to shake Jackson's hand. "We've only had shapeshifters. I'm Sam. And sorry about the confusion."

Jackson grinned. "Don't worry about it. Gabriel?"

"I remember you, Doctor Jackson," Gabriel stated as they shook hands. "Some crackpot theory about the pyramids back in the mid-'90s. I was all set to play a prank on you when you disappeared for a year. It was almost like you...."

"Dropped off the face of the earth," Jackson nodded. "I had."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up. "Huh."

"Well, look, I'd love to chat, especially given the Apocalypse research I've been doing this evening, but General O'Neill actually wanted me to come find out how soon you'll be up to sitting through a debriefing."

Gabriel groaned. "I _hated_ debriefings. One of the reasons I ditched." Then he closed his eyes and seemed to take stock of his injuries. "Give us fifteen minutes or so," he replied, opening his eyes again. "I think I'll be able to sit in a chair by then."

"Great. Sam, Dean," Jackson nodded at the brothers. "If you need me before the meeting, my office is on 18."

The brothers nodded their thanks, and Jackson left. Gabriel waited until he was well out of earshot, then sighed. "So obviously _that_ plan didn't work."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was my idea to pull the stupid bait-n-switch. Shoulda known Luci'd see through that. And you were right, Dean. I _was_ afraid to stand up to my brother." Gabriel took a deep breath and winced as his abdominal muscles pulled. "But now we need another plan. And from what I overheard of Dishon and Salim's conversation, I think they're gonna want in on this one. In fact, we probably need them."

Dean leaned forward. "What plan?"

"Well, I said all of this on that DVD, but since I survived, here goes. That cage you sprung Lucifer from? It's still down there, and there's a very slim chance we can put him back in. And what Lucifer himself doesn't know is that the key is on earth. Four keys, actually--the rings of the Four Horsemen."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "We've already got War's and Famine's," Dean noted. "We're halfway there. All we need are Pestilence and Death."

"Oh, is that all?" Sam shot back.

"It's a _plan_."

_A risky plan_, Dishon observed. _But a plan nonetheless._

Dean nodded and pointed at his head. "Dishon agrees with me. Yeah, it's risky...."

"Never said it would be easy," Gabriel shrugged. "We've got to get the cage open, trick Luci back into it, and--oh, yeah, avoid Michael and the God Squad. But hey, details, right?"

Dean laughed in spite of himself. "We should head back to Bobby's, see what omens we can come up with to work out where the Horsemen are."

"You speak of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?" asked a resonant bass from the doorway. "I understood that they were merely personifications of signs supposed to portend the end of the world."

Three pairs of eyes turned to the black Jaffa who filled the doorframe. The gold tattoo on his forehead proclaimed him a First Prime, but his uniform proclaimed him a member of Earth's Stargate program. And he was looking at them impassively, only the tilt of his head and the angle of one eyebrow indicating his curiosity.

Dean suddenly felt a pang of loneliness. He missed Castiel and his confused puppy face, trying to understand human ways like the nerd angel he was. Dishon, on the other hand, was incoherent with excitement.

"And you are?" Gabriel asked, matching the Jaffa eyebrow for eyebrow.

The Jaffa bowed slightly. "I am Teal'c. Please forgive my curiosity. I have lived among the Tau'ri for nearly thirteen of your years, but never before have I met an... angel." He pronounced the word carefully, like someone speaking a foreign language encountering an unfamiliar phrase.

Gabriel shrugged apologetically. "This vessel's not particularly impressive. Sorry."

Teal'c, perhaps wisely, didn't comment. Instead he turned to the Winchesters. "Neither have I met Tau'ri so willing to become hosts to the Tok'ra except in greatest need."

Sam chuckled wryly and offered his hand. "You don't know the half of it, Teal'c. Sam Winchester."

Teal'c shook hands with Sam and then with Dean, and Dishon let out a shriek of joy that would have been ear-piercing had it been voiced. Dean yelped, and though he managed not to swear aloud, he couldn't help shaking his head to try to dispel the headache. "Sorry, dude," he said at Teal'c's concerned frown. "Dishon squeals like a damn fangirl at a Beatles concert."

"Salim's just hyperventilating," said Sam, amused. "Guess the Tok'ra really like you."

Teal'c smiled at that. "Indeed. But tell me of the Four Horsemen. They are real beings?"

"Unfortunately," Dean nodded, still massaging his aching head. "War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death. Their power is in their rings, and we need to get all four to trap Lucifer back in Hell."

Teal'c tilted his head again, and Dean really wished he'd stop looking like Cas. "Sokar is dead."

"We know," the hunters and the angel chorused.

"Who, then, is Lucifer?"

"My damned brother," Gabriel replied grimly. "And when I say damned, I'm not just swearing."

Teal'c looked thoughtful for a moment. "_Paradise Lost_," he said finally, as if he'd solved a puzzle. "I had not thought it to be more than poetry."

"No, there's some truth to it," Sam shrugged. "Maybe not as much as people think, but some."

Teal'c tilted his head the other way. "Might that explain the sudden outbreaks of disease Daniel Jackson has discovered in California and Nevada?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, and Sam excused himself hastily and made a dash for the elevator.

* * *

Dean and Gabriel were still chatting with Teal'c when Carter came to collect them for the meeting. By the time the hunter and the angel had finished squabbling over whether or not Gabriel was well enough to walk to the briefing room (Dean won by default when Gabriel took one step and toppled into Teal'c's arms), Sam had returned with Jackson, who now insisted that they all call him Daniel and seemed to be Sam's newest research-geek buddy. Teal'c gently deposited Gabriel in a wheelchair and took charge of wheeling him around; Gabriel expressed his annoyance by turning Teal'c's uniform pink but relented when the only person to react was General Landry, who met them at the elevator on his way to the briefing room.

Everyone but Landry noticed when Gabriel turned Landry's hair purple. No one, including O'Neill (who was waiting in the briefing room), said anything. The former members of SG-1 knew Landry's better side, which the Winchesters hadn't yet seen, but even they were not above letting him be the victim of a good prank.

"So," O'Neill said as soon as they were all seated. "The world is going to end. Do I understand that correctly?"

"Yes, sir," the brothers Winchester chorused.

"Unless we're able to stop it," Sam added. "And we're trying to."

"How did you two get mixed up in all this?" O'Neill frowned.

Dean shook his head. "Wasn't by choice, believe me. Where do you want us to start?"

"The beginning is usually the best place."

"Nah, that'll take too long," said Gabriel. "Start with '83."

An exchange of glances between the brothers appointed Dean the storyteller, and he gave O'Neill the basic outline: the deal Mary Campbell Winchester had made with Azazel that led to the demon killing her and giving Sam demon blood; John Winchester's quest for revenge that had turned hunting evil into the family business; Sam's ill-fated attempt at a normal life and the tragedy that led him to return to hunting; Cold Oak and the Devil's Gate, events that left Azazel dead and Dean with a year to live; Dean's four months in Hell and Sam's affair with the demon Ruby; the breaking of the first and last seals that launched the Apocalypse; the roles that both Heaven and Hell expected the brothers to play in ending the world and their desperate attempt to hold on to free will and find another way to stop Lucifer. Sam offered occasional elaboration and Gabriel an occasional comment from the peanut gallery, but they mostly let Dean do the talking.

When he'd finished, Sam picked up with the events of that evening. It wasn't a detailed summary, but it seemed to tell O'Neill all he needed to know. Carter reported that the _Hammond_'s sensors indicated that the Asgard had indeed made it through the quantum mirror before Kali destroyed it.

"And where is Kali now?" O'Neill asked.

"Cicero, Indiana," Dean replied. "Asked her to look in on a friend for me."

Landry shrugged. "Sounds to me like the immediate threat has passed."

"Not really," said Gabriel.

"With respect, General," Sam added, "Lucifer did tell me back in November that he foresaw that I'll say yes to him... sometime next month."

Landry raised his eyebrows. "And if that happens?"

Gabriel sighed. "I'm not tapped into Angel Radio like I used to be, but if what I've heard is correct, Michael took the boys' half-brother as his temporary vessel. Unless we can trap Lucifer back in his cage, Mike's gonna show up for Celebrity Death Match. And nuclear winter's got nothin' on what my brothers will do to this planet once they're in the same room."

"We do have a plan," Dean added. "Need to meet up with a friend in South Dakota to flesh it out some, but we know what we need to do to get Satan back in the box."

"What about the Tok'ra?" O'Neill asked.

As one, Sam and Dean let their symbiotes come forward. "We wish to stay and fight," they chorused.

Landry chuckled wryly. "The IOA's going to have something to say about _that_."

O'Neill made an unprintable remark about the IOA. Dishon privately agreed. Gabriel gave Landry's hair electric blue highlights. Sam coughed to keep from laughing.

Landry turned to O'Neill. "Jack, they're nervous enough about the fallout from all these family visits from the _Destiny_. You know what they'll say about letting civilians with the Winchesters' criminal record even know the program exists, let alone be Tok'ra hosts, never mind leaving the SGC without supervision for as long as they did tonight."

"Nothing's ever gone to trial," O'Neill noted mildly. "And they didn't put their right names on the non-disclosure agreements."

"That's beside the point. The point is that the IOA is going to have a hard enough time swallowing the idea that we had to let the Tok'ra take out a nest of Goa'uld in the middle of Indiana and that we couldn't do it ourselves because we literally expected the devil himself to show up."

"Which he did," Gabriel interrupted.

"And from their point of view," Landry shot back, matching Gabriel's annoyed glare with his own, "the only surviving witnesses are two alleged Satanist serial killers, a man who thinks he's an archangel, and a woman who claims to be a goddess and who might or might not be hiding somewhere in Indiana. The Tok'ra's word won't be enough," he added before either Dishon or Salim could object. "I know Dale Strom. He'll say blending with the Winchesters has transferred their insanity to the symbiotes. So will Shen Xiaoyi, and she'll sway the rest of the committee. And even if we _can_ convince them that the Apocalypse is upon us, they won't accept the notion that this same bunch of crazies are worth the security risk of leaving the Tok'ra free to drive around the country at will because they think they can help these people send Lucifer back to Hell."

"Whaddaya mean, 'bunch of crazies'?" Gabriel scoffed as he silently added green highlights to Landry's hair. "You haven't even met Bobby and Castiel."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Daniel frowned in confusion. O'Neill and Carter pointedly did not look at each other as they tried not to laugh. Dean just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Sam sighed. "We understand what you're saying, General. But if... if this doesn't work, if things go sideways... Earth's not the only planet that will suffer. The Book of Revelation says that a third of the stars will be destroyed before the end. We don't know if that means only the visible stars or not."

"Even if it does refer only to the stars visible from Earth," Dishon added, "up to a third of this galaxy... millions, perhaps billions, of lives will be lost. Lucifer is not likely to destroy only uninhabited systems. He is as terrible an enemy as was the half-ascended Anubis, perhaps even more evil and more powerful."

Sam nodded, but it was Salim who spoke next. "This fight is not purely the concern of the Tau'ri. We are all at risk, and as representatives of the Tok'ra, we wish to stay and fight with Sam and Dean."

Gabriel shook his head and fought a smile. "My brothers would _never_ have seen this coming. And it's going to throw a major monkey wrench in the works, because even if Dean and Sam say yes, they still have to get permission from Dishon and Salim."

"They won't just rip the symbiotes out?" Landry frowned.

Gabriel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose they could, even if it kills Sam and Dean, because they can always bring their souls back. But they don't want to do that much damage to their vessels unless they have to. Of course, we're planning to have Luci back in the box before it gets to that point, and four minds will definitely be better for that job than two. Especially _those_ two."

Dean threw a pen at Gabriel, who dodged and turned it into a candy bar, which Teal'c then caught, examined, and tasted. A pleased quirk of the eyebrows was his only reaction before he ate the whole thing.

O'Neill sighed and rubbed his neck. "And what happens after?"

"We can figure that out later, if we live that long," Dean replied.

Carter leaned forward. "Sir, if what they're saying is true...."

O'Neill nodded. "I know, Carter. It's a hell of a security risk, but if that's what it takes to save the world this time... I guess we're just gonna have to take it. And we'll deal with the IOA when it's over."

"Thank you, sir," Dean said sincerely.

Landry looked sour, but he clearly knew when he'd been overruled.

"One month, General Landry," Sam promised. "We'll end it, or we'll die trying."

"You've got General O'Neill's approval," Landry noted, but he didn't sound as grumpy about it as he had been. "You don't need mine."

Gabriel relented and restored the general's natural hair color. Teal'c looked faintly disappointed.

O'Neill stood then, and so did everyone else--including Gabriel, who was looking considerably better already and snapped the wheelchair back to the infirmary. "If you need anything," said O'Neill, "anything at all, be sure to call us. I'm sure Daniel can help out with research, if nothing else."

"Sam's already asked me for some information," Daniel noted. "Er, Samuel, not our Sam."

"I am not needed elsewhere for the present, O'Neill," Teal'c added. "I wish to travel with the Winchesters at least to Sioux Falls."

"Yeah, that's fine, T," replied O'Neill.

The Winchesters and their archangel shook hands all around and expressed their thanks, and everyone filed out of the room. But Carter caught Dean's arm as Sam and Gabriel followed Daniel for further consultation and Teal'c went off to pack.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Dean, there's... I dealt with a seer once, a couple of years ago when I was in command of Atlantis. I still don't know if his powers were supernatural or not. It doesn't matter. We had a very interesting conversation about whether or not it's possible to know the future. I said that I believed in free will and that I couldn't accept the possibility that the future was predetermined, unalterable. And I'll never forget his answer: 'Perhaps the future is predetermined by the character of those who shape it.'

"Then about six months later one of our people was accidentally sent 48,000 years into the future. When he came back, he had crucial information about someone who'd gone missing, but he also told us everything he'd learned about what happened in that alternate timeline. We found our missing person. Some of the things John told us about happened anyway, although the circumstances were different. Some major calamities were avoided and others happened instead. Lives were saved. Other lives were lost. But the things that changed didn't change simply because of what we knew. Davos was right--they changed because the right people survived to change them."

Dean frowned. "What are you saying?"

"The fact that something was foretold doesn't mean it has to happen the way the foretelling has been interpreted. Maybe there is a reality out there in which you and Sam say yes and the world ends next month. But it doesn't have to be this one. The key isn't what you've seen or been told." She smiled. "The key is your character. 'Trust yourself,' a friend of mine once said, 'and the rest will unfold as it is meant to.'"

Dean thought back to the times he'd been unable, by chance or interference, to change the future, but Dishon reminded him of the two crucial times he _had_ changed something. Granted, they hadn't made it to Detroit yet, so he couldn't know if Lucifer had been lying to him about all roads leading to that same scene in 2014, but if that Sam had said yes _only_ because Dean had driven him away... well, that much they'd fixed. And it would stay fixed.

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. "Thanks, Colonel."

She patted his arm. "C'mon, let's get something to eat while we wait for your brothers, and I can tell you about Dad and Selmak. The pie's not great, but it's edible enough. Jack likes it. And there's Jell-O."

"Hey, I'm eatin' for two now," Dean joked, and his grin widened at the bark of mental laughter that burst from Dishon. "Lead on."


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

Bobby Singer couldn't pace anymore since the possession incident last spring that had left him paralyzed, so he'd managed to clear a circle from the living room into the kitchen and back that he could wheel around whenever he got anxious. And that cryptic phone call from Dean just after midnight the night before? That had definitely made him anxious, and though Bobby had managed to get some sleep because they were coming in from Colorado Springs and wouldn't arrive until lunchtime, this morning the caffeine from his coffee seemed to serve only to make him jittery. He was liable to wear a hole in the floor if he did many more laps.

Something had happened, that much was plain. The boys were supposed to be headed to Chuck Shurley's place in Ohio, had called him from Indiana to say they were caught in a freak thunderstorm and were looking for a motel; how they _and_ the Impala had gotten to Colorado Springs in the space of five hours was anyone's guess, even considering the way Dean drove when lives were at stake. It might have been Cas, but Dean would have said....

Further ruminations were cut off by the familiar sound of the Impala's engine. By the time Bobby had made it to the door with the holy water, the boys and the guest Dean had mentioned (guest, singular, though there had been at least two voices besides Sam's in the background when he'd called, one tenor and one bass) were coming up the steps. From what Bobby could see, the third man was about a match for Sam in height, of African-American descent, and had a knit cap pulled almost to his eyebrows.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean called as he opened the door.

"C'mon in, son," Bobby nodded, staying far enough back that all three would have to cross the salt lines and pass under the Key of Solomon that was painted on the ceiling.

"Bobby, this is Teal'c," Sam stated, coming over for his hug and his shot of holy water. "He's on loan to us for a few days. Teal'c, this is Bobby Singer, the friend we were telling you about."

"It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Singer," the black man said with a slight bow, his enunciation a shade too crisp for a native English speaker. His had been the bass rumble Bobby had heard on the phone. "Sam and Dean speak very highly of you."

"Teal'c," Bobby nodded. "Care for a glass of water?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow but caught the nods Sam and Dean sent him and accepted the cup with another slight bow. He then drank the holy water in one gulp, as if it were a shot of whisky, and bowed again. "That was most refreshing, thank you."

"Thought I'd heard someone else talkin' to you when you called, Dean," Bobby noted, accepting the cups back from all three.

"Yeah, that was Gabriel," Dean nodded. "Got kinda banged up, so he stuck with us until he was good to fly again. He's gone to find Cas."

"So where'd you pick up Teal'c? Colorado Springs?"

"Yeah." Dean paused and looked over at Sam, who nodded. "Look, Bobby... before we explain what Teal'c's doin' here, there's somebody else you need to meet. Two somebodies, actually."

Bobby's stomach clenched. "What have you idjits done now?"

Sam put a hand on Bobby's shoulder. "It's a good thing. Promise."

The boys exchanged glances again, and then their heads dipped in unison.

"Greetings, Bobby," said... _something_ in Dean. The voice was distorted so badly that it had almost dropped another octave. "I am Dishon."

"And I am Salim, his brother," added... whatever was in Sam that did the same thing to his voice. "We are Tok'ra. Sam and Dean requested our help in their fight against the being known as Lucifer."

Dishon blinked and suddenly looked faintly amused. "Dean says we should say 'We come in peace.'"

And _Teal'c_ looked highly amused at that. "The Tau'ri have a strange sense of humor at times. I do not doubt that you will both learn many inappropriate jokes from the Winchesters."

"HEY!" And that was all Dean.

Salim grinned. "I do not think I should tell you what your brother said to that, Dean."

Dean muttered something under his breath, then yelled, "Stay out of this, Dishon! It's between me and the Sasquatch."

Teal'c burst out laughing. Salim bowed Sam's head, and Sam's laughter--clear, sane laughter--rang out at well. Dean kept grumbling in what was plainly mock annoyance.

"What the _hell?_" Bobby finally exploded.

"We're not possessed, Bobby," Sam replied, still chuckling. "It's different, honest. They're alien symbiotes. We're two souls sharing one body."

"Well, one soul sticks with the snake," Dean clarified. "But it really is shared space. And Gabriel confirmed that they're just as hidden as we are by the sigils."

"Look, we'll tell you all about it over lunch. But there's one thing we gotta do first. And we need you to lie down for it." Sam nodded toward the couch, then dug into his duffle and pulled out some funky Egyptian-looking artifact.

Bobby looked at Dean dubiously.

"We can do this in the panic room, if you're that worried about us," Dean shrugged. "It's alien technology, not magic."

Bobby was too far from any of his guns to defend himself even if he had to, so he sighed and wheeled himself over to the couch. Dean and Teal'c gently helped him out of the chair and laid him down on his stomach.

"This doesn't hurt, does it, Teal'c?" Sam asked as he walked over to them.

"No, it does not," Teal'c assured him. "He may feel warmth, but it will cause no pain."

"Maybe you should let Salim do it," Dean suggested.

"Yeah, okay." Sam bowed his head again, and Salim activated the artifact in his hand and held it over Bobby's back.

And Bobby hissed as sensation returned to his feet.

"Bobby?" Dean frowned, worried.

"It's okay," Bobby replied. "M'feet."

"Do not try to move yet," Salim cautioned. He held the device in place a moment longer, then shut it off. "Now."

Bobby moved his foot experimentally, and the boys grinned at each other when it worked. Then Teal'c stepped out of the way to let them help Bobby up. He was shaky for a moment, standing on legs wasted by months of paralysis, but stand he could.

He looked up, unsure whether he was addressing Sam or Salim, and said, "Thank you."

The tilted head bow he received in return was Salim. "It was my pleasure, Bobby." Then a deeper head bow, and Sam was pulling him into a relieved hug.

And when Sam released him, Dean spun him around and pulled him into another hug. "Told you this was a good thing," he whispered.

"You're still idjits," Bobby replied gruffly. "But I s'pose this time it's okay."

Dean huffed a laugh, pounded Bobby's back, and drew back. "C'mon. Let's get some lunch and we'll tell you Gabriel's plan."

Bobby turned to Teal'c. "You like BLTs, Teal'c?"

"Indeed," Teal'c replied with a hint of a smile.

"Well, take your hat off and come on in the kitchen."

Teal'c pulled off his stocking cap to reveal a large gold tattoo in the middle of his forehead--the sign of Apophis, if memory served--and followed Sam into the kitchen without another word.

"He ain't from Earth, either, is he?" Bobby asked Dean quietly.

"Nope." Dean looked around furtively. "Bobby, this is _insanely_ top secret stuff. You can't tell _anybody_."

Bobby snorted. "Hell, boy, nobody believes me about werewolves. Who'd believe me about alien snakes?"

Dean grinned and slapped him on the back, and together they walked into the kitchen to fix lunch and talk strategy.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed and favorited and whatnot! Alas, Part 2 (working title: "If Wishes Were Horsemen") is not nearly so far along, so it may be a bit before I start posting it. I do hope to have the whole Tok'ra Apocalypse trilogy posted by the end of the summer, however.


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